The novel ‘A Woman between Two Men’, with an Albanian-American Theme, is authored by Carrie Hooper and Skifter Këllici
The cafe was filled with workers on their lunch break and other passers-by. If one man had entered the cafe followed by another, no one would have noticed them. But a beautiful woman in beautiful clothes had come in, accompanied by a young man.
Since he lived near the cafe, some of the customers knew Kreshnik. They had never seen that handsome man with a woman. Therefore, they turned and looked at the couple with curiosity until they sat down. Some of the customers looked at each other as if to say, “Look what Nik brought in!”
Mary had never imagined such a scenario and for a second, she regretted having come to the cafe with Kreshnik. She was about to leave but realized that doing so would attract the attention of those who knew Mary and Charlie.
Kreshnik and Mary sat motionless for a few minutes. Kreshnik seemed caught off guard by Mary’s unexpected invitation. Mary did not know how to start the conversation which she had formulated in her mind that morning. Kreshnik turned off his phone so he could concentrate better.
“Nik,” said Mary, without looking at him. “I don’t know you that well, and after our conversation, I will forget you as you must forget me no matter how much you love me. That’s what you said last night, isn’t it?”
Kreshnik’s jaw dropped with surprise.
“After all, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she said, flatly. “I should have intervened before the police beat you. I should have told the truth. You didn’t come to seduce me. I realized later that when you talked about a meeting in Del Mar Beach, you meant you wanted to share secrets that have tormented you for a long time. You wanted to reveal them to me at the club. Please understand that if I had known you were not in love with the girl you say is your boss’s lover, we would have met sooner, and we would have avoided that awful incident at the restaurant.”
She was silent.
“Before we say good-bye for good,” said Kreshnik, his lips trembling, “I will tell you a secret I should have told you that night. Although I hate drugs and have never tried them, I am a drug trafficker. If I am caught, I will be punished severely just like so many other people have been.”
When he saw that Mary was afraid and wide-eyed with surprise, Kreshnik continued, “That’s the secret I wanted to tell you. I am the slave of a boss named Max Cooper. He sells furniture, but that is only a front for his drug trafficking. His lover is Dolores, the Mexican girl you saw with me at the club. She has been seducing me for weeks, a shameful act which I don’t understand, and which shows she loves his money, not him. He is a dirty, rotten scoundrel like her. She pretended to be in love with me.”
Kreshnik lowered his eyes and was silent as if he were afraid to continue this disgusting story. But after a brief pause, he said, “My boss and Dolores go to Del Mar Beach almost every weekend. But that Saturday, she had come alone. She had followed me and had seen me enter the club. She didn’t know I was waiting for someone. She sat down at the table with me. She was a bit drunk. As they say, `The glass removes what’s in the stomach.` She came on to me; she wanted me to make love to her. I knew that already but I didn’t think things would go that far. Then, when I told her to leave because I had an important meeting, she threatened to tell my boss that I had seduced her. You saw what happened then. That’s what I wanted to tell you. I want to loose that yoke, but I can’t. I am bound to my boss and to Dolores, his co-worker.”
Kreshnik screwed up his lips, then added, “What can I do? It’s because of my adoptive father, James, that I’m the way I am. As you know, you treated him in the hospital when he broke his leg. I forgive him for teaching me to smoke and drink, but not for making me a slave to that ruffian. I can’t escape him. He sends me all over America and abroad whenever he feels like it.”
“That’s why you’ve been gone these past few months?”
“Yes. I left the following day. I was in Mexico, which is close to San Diego. I also went to Venezuela and Columbia, one of the drug capitals of the world. I’ve been to other cities in California, too, from Long Beach to Los Angeles to San Francisco, without setting foot in my house. I had no choice. He’s a brutal man. If I didn’t do what he wanted, he would kill me.”
He paused for a moment before continuing.
“At the bus station that day, the guy you saw was me. I saw you, too, but acted as if I hadn’t.”
“Why?” asked Mary, stunned.
“At that moment, I suspected the police might be following me. Indeed, they had begun their drug raids. I disappeared into the crowd so no one would see me.”
Kreshnik tried to suppress a sorrowful sigh.
“That’s why, when you suggested I work at the hospital,” he continued sotto voce, “I didn’t consider the idea. It would have been wonderful. But how can I free myself from the slavery that is ruining my life and could send me to prison if not today, then tomorrow. How can I escape?”
After that question, he raised his eyes, on the verge of tears.
“I am not only at the mercy of my boss and Dolores, but also at your mercy.”
Mary looked at him absent-mindedly.
“If you say one word to Ralph Kallagan, he will not hesitate to arrest me. It will give him great pleasure, and he will thank you profusely for your help.”
“Did you think I would stoop so low?”
“You have given me your word,” said Kreshnik. “In Albania, we have a custom that if anyone suffers a great misfortune and needs protection, he is welcome anywhere. That family is obligated to help him. Do you understand?”
Mary nodded and tried to understand this strange but noble custom. Most of all, however, she was stunned by Kreshnik’s story.
Mary had gathered from her conversation with Wilma that something was bothering Kreshnik, but she had never imagined that he was a drug dealer. So when he told her what he did for a living, she wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. She was talking to a man who could be arrested at any time. Kreshnik had admitted that Ralph Kallagan had set his sights on him.
But after his moving account, Mary said, “Don’t be afraid. No matter what, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
Then she took a deep breath and asked, “Have you encountered any dangerous situations while transporting drugs?”
“Plenty,” said Kreshnik.
He turned away and smiled.
He proceded to tell Mary about his most recent run when he was forced to burn his car, roll down a hill in a hailstorm with a bag full of drugs, and escape the police and their dogs in order to reach a bridge. After an anxious wait, his boss picked him up after midnight.
As he talked, Kreshnik knit his brow and rubbed his hands together as if he were reliving his astonishing escape. Mary listened, heart-broken, to Kreshnik’s seeming rave. It wore her out.
“Do you produce drugs?” she asked after a brief pause.
Kreshnik almost burst out laughing. He smiled and showed his beautiful, white teeth.
“You seem interested in the secrets of the trade.”
“Forgive me,” she said. “I was just curious.” She felt embarrassed for having asked such a question.
“We usually smuggle the drugs in from Mexico, but lately we have been making our own marijuana. Have you heard of the marijuana plant?”
Mary nodded.
“We plant it in special pots that look like trays and put them in large cellars. That way, the police won’t suspect anything. The plants grow by lamplight, and after two or three months, we dry them and make marijuana in our laboratories which are also in the cellars.”
Mary fluttered her eyelids.
“And if the police catch you, is the punishment as harsh as I have heard?” Mary asked.
“We would go to prison for a long time,” sighed Kreshnik. (Continues)
Click here for Part-1, Part-2, Part-3, Part-4, Part-5, Part-6, Part-7, Part-8, Part-9, Part-10, Part-11, Part-12, Part-13, Part-14, Part-15,
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About the Authors
Carrie Hooper was born and raised in Elmira, New York. She has been blind since birth. She received a B.A. in vocal performance from Mansfield University, Mansfield, Pennsylvania. She went on to receive an M.A. in German and an M.A. in vocal performance from the State University of New York at Buffalo. After completing her studies, she spent a year at the Royal University College of Music in Stockholm, Sweden as a Fulbright scholar. Carrie currently lives in Elmira, New York. She taught German, Italian, and Romanian at Elmira College. She has a passion for foreign languages and in addition to the languages mentioned above, she is also proficient in Swedish, Spanish, and Albanian. Music also plays an important role in Carrie’s life. She teaches voice and piano lessons, gives vocal concerts, plays the piano and organ at a church, and sings in a community chorus. Carrie not only loves music and languages, but also enjoys poetry. She has published three books: “Piktura në fjalë” (“Word Paintings”), a bilingual collection of poetry (Albanian-English), “My Life in My Words”, and “Away from Home.” She has also translated texts from Albanian and Romanian to English.
Skifter Këllici was born in Tirana, Albania and received a diploma in history and literature from the University of Tirana. He worked as a journalist, scholar, and sportscaster on radio and television. He is the author of several novels and nonfiction books, including the children’s books, “Memories of the Old Neighborhood” and “In the Footsteps” as well as the historical novels, “Assassination in Paris”, “The Murderer with the White Hands”, and “September Disaster.” He wrote the screenplay for “In the Footsteps” which won a special prize at the International Children’s Film Festival in Giffoni, Italy in 1979. He has lived in Boston, Massachusetts since 1999.
[The book ‘Disastrous September is being reproduced in episodes with the consent of the author]
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